


I Will Follow You Into the Dark

by ARayOfAngst



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Batman: A Death in the Family, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, But Worse, Descriptions of Physical Injury, Dissociation, Gen, Industrial strength angst, Jason Todd is Robin, Reverse Ethiopia AU, but not for long, disorientation and fragmented thoughts, if you know what happens in ethiopia, not a happy story in any way or manner, then you know what happens here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARayOfAngst/pseuds/ARayOfAngst
Summary: This is for a reverse Ethiopia challenge. It is still very much in the vein of A Death in the Family, but even sadder, so be forewarned.All Jason had ever wanted was a parent that cared. A parent that wouldn't abandon him when things got tough, and he seems to have finally found one.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	I Will Follow You Into the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dottie_wan_kenobi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottie_wan_kenobi/gifts).



> Please heed the tags. They're there for a reason. Also, thanks be to Dottie, for egging me on.

Time was behaving inconsistently. The minutes and the seconds all bent into a soup of moments that he couldn’t hold on to. The Joker’s rictus smile and acid cackle were burned into his brain. Heh, more like beaten into. The blows from the crowbar had stopped, but his body kept shuddering from the impact of the blows. Had the joker left? Had Batman come and stopped him….

* * *

………. there was something funky going on with his left eye socket, the clown had had no reservations about hurting his face, unlike some of the other rogues in Batman’s gallery. So, to repay the impoliteness, he’d spat on the clown’s face…… or maybe it was thrown upon his shoes, maybe both. But that wasn’t important right now.

He couldn’t actually remember what _was_ important right now. Taking stock of his physical condition came naturally. He’d have to remember all of it so that he could report it all to Agent A. The multitude of blows had most definitely broken his right femur and multiple ribs.

The vision in his right eye was only slightly better in the sense that he could open it, look around, and try to regain his bearings. Not that it helped much from his prone position on the floor.

His ears were buzzing, like the loud sound that used to permeate his house whenever Jason had turned on the tiny television set that had been in the apartment longer than Jason had. They hadn’t had cable and all you could see were loud ants crawling all over the screen. That loud fizzing and screeching of the device was the closest match to the static in his head. So, he should definitely add a concussion to the list.

Fuck. He was so dead, once Agent A got a hold of him. Slowly rotating his head to look up at the room, he saw a woman tied up nearby. She didn’t seem to be injured, so that was a plus in the situation. Maybe Bruce wouldn’t fire him.

hmm…why would Bruce fire him…….

His head was getting heavier, or was it foggier…...

Maybe he should think about it after a nap.

* * *

The iron tang of blood flooded his nose and mouth, loud wheezing coughs echoing through an enclosed space. Why did he feel like absolute shit... where was Bruce……?

Oh god, that felt like a few broken ribs, maybe a punctured lung… fuck. Opening his eyes was a task. Actually, scratch that, opening a singular eye was a task. What had he gotten into? Trying to stand up was clearly a no go. Feeling the grate of bone on bone and the searing pain of bone through skin was not what he was going for.

So that was a broken femur and an ankle to add to the list. Whelp. At least he’d get a lot of school work done while he healed up, as long as he didn’t die by Alfred’s hands first.

Huh…. Someone said his name. Craning his head to look up was agony, but he was glad he did it. All his memories started to swirl together into something resembling a narrative. The Joker, Sheila, Batman, the crowbar.

_Fuck… Batman wasn’t here._

Robin had to save Sheila, otherwise what the hell was he even good for. That bomb next to his mom had less than five minutes on the timer. He had to… move… now…just… drag himself…. A little further…

His vision was useless, and his fingers too bent and shaky for disarming a bomb. Even if it was one as simple as this one. He’d set it off without steady hands… But he could still cut through a few ropes with a Batarang.

Sheila kept trying to say something to him, but his concentration was shot to hell. He couldn’t spare any focus for things other than the task he’d set himself. Fuck, why was this taking so long…... why was he always so useless... no wonder Bruce had benched him… he fucked up everything he touched….

No! He could do this. He was still Robin, he was still in the uniform, no one could take away his magic from him. His breath was short, shallow, and wheezing. Coughing up blood was never fun, and doing it while trying to beat a timer was even worse.

_There! That was the last rope._

The blonde lady was free.

Hmmm… the floor seemed like a nice cool place to wait for Batman on. Maybe he should just grab a bit of shut-eye while he waited…… _juust five more minutes Alfie, it’s still dark outside…_

* * *

_Aaaargh_ , that fucking hurt Bruce…... Bruce?

No, this wasn’t the cave, he wasn’t in a sparring hold… a lady was dragging him across a…. warehouse? Huh. His body felt like it weighed a ton and nothing at all at the same time. This lady must have drugged him. But he couldn’t seem to even open his mouth to protest.

Oh, she seems pissed about something… God he hoped Batman was coming soon, ‘cause he couldn’t think at all, forget stage an escape…... That door was definitely locked from outside, and this lady didn’t seem happy about it. There was something important about that door…. But he couldn’t quite remember what. Maybe If he just closed his eyes and concentrated a little harder, it would come to him….

* * *

A gust of hot desert wind brushed across his face. Oh, there’s Bruce! What was he doing here, wasn’t he tracking something down somewhere….? There was a ringing in his ears and the sound of a loud beeping. He couldn’t make out what Batman was saying as he ran towards him. God, could someone turn off that alarm.

Batman threw a blonde-haired woman that had been cowering … behind him? Out of the door he had just come through. That wasn’t very nice of him, he was usually gentler. But there was something frantic about his movements. His eyes wild, and mouth moving quickly as he yelled at the woman, or was it at him, he couldn’t tell above all the noise.

Then, all he knew was the comfort of the cool black Kevlar weave of Bruce’s cape, and the hard planes of Bruce’s armoured body draped over him as his hearing and vision went out completely. Bruce’s body lay limply over him, as he tried to breathe through the thick material and the blood in his airways.

His mind was as quiet as the burning inferno of the world around him, and his heartbeat faster than the hooves of the horses that he’d seen at the races with Bruce. But, just as full as when Bruce had hoisted him on his shoulders to better cheer on the riders.

He knew now, what he had hoped for then. That he really would never be alone again.

**Author's Note:**

> So with this, I return to my regular savoir-faire of angst. Thanks for joining me on this deathtrap of a roller coaster. Fic title is from the song "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie.


End file.
